Redemption
by Nightsailer
Summary: I will be reborn. And you have no one to blame but yourself. Need I say more than TXV?
1. I Have Fallen

_Prologue: YoU aRe My SaLvAtIoN_

A heavy silver sword clattered to the ground. Mako-enriched blue eyes stared straight ahead, burning with a feverish light. Golden blond hair glistened with sweat. Gloved hands clutched at nothing. Nothing he did could drown out the angel's voice.

_I will be reborn. And you have no one to blame but yourself._

Laughter rang through eternity as he fell into oblivion.

Fog smattered night settled heavily around 7th Heaven. The fall of Shin-Ra had taken its toll on the dormant metropolis of Midgar, and the small, run-down bar was no exception. Everything in the enormous city was now powered by electricity; the lights flickered dangerously as the prototype electric power generator sputtered and whirred from its place by the pinball machine. Suddenly, the small contraption of steel and bolts coughed, spat out a puff of black smoke, and was silent.

"God, not again," Tifa muttered. Slamming the glass down on the well-polished countertop, the raven-haired beauty stomped over to the tiny generator and whacked it with the heel of her palm. It shuddered once, allowing Tifa a split second of hope before collapsing in on itself, putting out every light in the building.

Tifa stood there in the dark for a moment, then turned and kicked at the nearby wall, holding back just enough strength to keep the fragile plaster in one piece. "Damn," she grated, running an irritated hand through her hair. "That piece of junk cost a fortune, too." Casting one last disgusted look at the mental image of the ruined machine, she reached out her hands and felt for the bar table, the wall, or anything that might lead her to her stash of flashlights under the sink.

"I believe you're looking for this."

A beam of light broke the darkness in front of her. Tifa momentarily shielded her eyes, then, blinking rapidly, looked for the source of the voice.

Vincent Valentine stood at the other end of the light, crimson eyes glittering broodingly in the dim circle of yellow. The blood red cloak that was his trademark whispered softly around his ankles as he pressed the flashlight into her hand.

"Uh…thanks," Tifa managed. Taking the small light with delicate fingers, she shot the gunman a strange look; he never came around unless there was trouble. "So…um…what brings you here?"

Vincent didn't answer right away. "I was…looking for Cloud," he answered at last, his soft voice almost losing itself in the shadows around him. "Is he in?"

Tifa scratched her head. "Well, no. He went looking for Reeve a…little while ago. Said he'd be back soon. Why? Is something wrong?"

"No." Vincent's ruby eyes flickered shut.

Tifa shrugged, knowing full well that she could pry no more into the gunman's thoughts than an elephant could force its way into a rabbit hole. Turning on her heel, she stomped over to the busted generator and, with no reason to hold back, kicked it full force across the room. It crashed against the far wall, leaving a hole the size of a bowling ball in its wake.

Vincent's quiet voice floated to her ears. "Antsy, are we?"

"Is it that obvious?" Tifa growled irritably. "I mean, I'm only stuck alone in a bar with barely enough power to run a pinwheel, and I just kicked a hole through my wall with a crapped-out generator. I had no idea my nerves were so threadbare."

Vincent didn't reply.

Tifa blew out a sigh. "Sorry, Vincent. I just can't stop thinking about Cloud. I know he's a big boy and that I shouldn't worry about him…but someone has to, right?"

"I suppose."

Tifa let the silence grow for a moment, then ran over to the gunner and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. Vincent regarded her with surprise. Tifa had never been so clingy.

"When is he coming back, Vincent?" she murmured, holding the slender man tighter. "I won't be able to sleep until he does. Doesn't he know that this is killing me?"

"He is fine, Tifa. He will be back." Vincent stroked the shimmering ebony locks so similar to his own, venturing a swift glance at the figure wrapped in his arms. Then he allowed his crimson eyes to flicker shut and pressed his cool cheek against her hair. Then, all at once, he pushed her to arm's length, an alarmed expression stealing over his stoic features for an all-too-brief moment in time. Then the instant passed, and his face was carved of stone once more.

Tifa didn't seem to notice. She was pressing the tips of her fingers delicately over her eyes, her mouth set in a determined grimace as she commanded herself to remain in control.

"I'm so weird," she grumbled at last, raking her fingers through her hair and blinking rapidly to dislodge something that had become conveniently stuck in her eye. "One minute I'll be fine and the next…" She gave a helpless shrug. "I mean, Cloud used to be gone all the time. Heck, I didn't see him for years after he joined Shin-Ra. It never used to bother me…"

"Time is a fickle thing," the gunman concurred softly. His gaze traveled to the window, where silver moonlight was filtering in through the dirty glass, painting chromic murals upon the well-trodden floor.

"What do you think, Vincent?" Tifa asked suddenly, leaning forward just enough to let the moonlight twinkle through the glistening drops behind her eyes. "Do you think I'm being ridiculous?"

"Where did Cloud go?" Vincent asked in reply, ignoring her question completely.

Tifa blinked. "Um…I just told you. He went to look for Reeve--"

"Was he aware of Reeve's whereabouts?"

"I'm…I'm sure he was," Tifa ventured, suddenly unsure herself. _Did_ Cloud know where he was going? _Of course he does!_ she answered herself angrily. _Why would he leave without knowing where to go? _She shook her head and returned to the bar, picking up the glass and wiping it furiously with the damp washrag.

Silence grew between them, broken only by Vincent's soft, even breathing and the clink of the glass as Tifa accidentally clipped it off the corner of the bar. Vincent watched her quietly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't quite get it to pass his lips. Tifa concentrated on her work as she had in the final battle against Sephiroth; except this time the battle could not be seen. It raged inside her heart.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Tifa set the glass aside and looked up, tossing her ebony locks out of her face with a flick of her chin.

"So what now, Vincent?" she asked softly. "Will you look for him?"

Vincent's gaze wrestled with the shadows, drawing the rest of his consciousness into the fray as he contemplated the darkness.

"Vincent?"

The soft, almost pleading way she called his name shook him out of his reverie. Turning bloody eyes upon her, he managed a small smile as he inclined his head. He turned toward the door.

"Wait!" Tifa cried. The glass she had been cleaning crashed to the floor and shattered into a million razor-sharp pieces as she rushed out after him, taking his arm and bowing her head into the winter wind.

"I'm coming too."

Vincent's eyes sparked with a question, then he simply shrugged and led the girl off down the street, leaving his query behind to decay along with the old, rundown bar.

_Chapter 1: I hAvE fAlLeN_

_Two Months Later_

Vincent stood in silence outside the Niebelheim inn, waiting for Tifa to come back with the answer that was always the same yet somehow always necessary. Everywhere they went, they received the same reply.

No, he hasn't been here. No, I haven't seen him. No, I think he went –

_No, no, no, no, no…_

The gunner blew out a sigh and cast a glance toward the wooden door of the Inn. He could see Tifa's slender frame leaning against the check-in counter, eyes riveted – as always – on the innkeeper who offered everything but answers. He saw the plump old woman look up from the screen, that same look in her hazel-blue eyes as her lips began to move…

_I haven't seen him, dearie,_ Vincent supplied in his head, turning his gaze back to Tifa, who forced a smile and thanked the woman all the same. Vincent looked away, studying the ruined Mako Reactor in the distance as he waited for Tifa to descend the steps and make her way back to him.

_This is becoming a joke._

"He still hasn't been here," Tifa told him needlessly, kneading her temples as she glided down the steps. "God, I just don't know where he could be! Vincent, could you-"

Vincent flipped open his phone and dialed the number just as he had every day for the past nine weeks, faintly aware that he didn't even have to look down to strike the correct keys. Tifa smiled weakly and nodded her thanks. The gunman favored her with a mirthless smile, then lowered his eyes as the phone began to ring.

"Hello, Vincent."

"Reeve," Vincent answered.

"He still hasn't made it." The WRO officer's voice was dull.

Vincent examined his claw-hand. "I know."

There was a long pause. Reeve cleared his throat.

"Vincent…" Reeve said heavily, "…you know he's not coming."

The raven-haired man drew Tifa to him with his eyes, holding her close to him in his thoughts as he watched her pace restlessly in front of the inn. "I know."

"I'm sorry for Tifa's sake…but let's be serious. If Cloud doesn't want to be found, you're not going to find him."

"How do you know he doesn't want to be found?" Vincent queried softly.

Reeve blew a sigh through the earpiece of Vincent's cell phone. "I don't. I'm simply stating a fact." There was a pause.

"Call me if you find out anything," Vincent told his friend after a time.

"You know I would. Goodbye, Vincent. Give my best to Tifa."

Vincent flipped the phone shut. Tifa looked up hopefully, as she always did. The red-cloaked gunner met her gaze with troubled eyes, then shook his head. "Nothing," he muttered. He lowered his thick lashes, unable to watch her face fall for what seemed like the thousandth time that day.

The wind tussled their shimmering black locks, moving them in unison, mirroring the identical turmoil turning both their hearts to ash. Vincent studied her troubled expression. _How alike we become,_ he thought bitterly. _Tifa, if only I could spare you the pain I know all too well…_

Unaware of his brooding thoughts, Tifa shook her head violently and forced a smile through gritted teeth. "Well, tomorrow will be the day. Might as well turn in. Mom said we could stay at our house tonight." When he didn't move, she shyly reached out to touch his elbow. "Are you coming?"

Vincent shook his head. "The elements always suited me better," he replied tonelessly. Pulling gently from her grasp, he backed toward the shadows beyond the light of the Inn. "I will see you in the morning."

Tifa's full lips tightened, then she nodded jerkily, lacing her fingers behind her back. "Right," she murmured. "I'll meet you on my porch at nine."

Vincent turned and walked into the night.

Tifa's gaze followed his retreating form. "Right," she said again. "Even though I would've…enjoyed the company." On a whim, she made a face at his back. "You'll never change, will you, Vincent Valentine?" Bowing her head into the wind, she spun on her heel and marched across the town square and disappeared through her front door.

After an hour of mindlessly wandering through the shadows of Niebelheim, Vincent's wayward steps finally deposited him at the gates of the Shin-Ra mansion. The structure was even more dilapidated than when he left it – if such a thing was possible. The front door had abandoned its hinges and leaned wildly against its rotting frame, broken windows leering at the gunner with clouded eyes. The whole building seemed to be collapsing into itself, as if nothing but its own forgotten memories were holding it together.

_How fitting, _Vincent thought with a small smile. The fallen structure was a perfect metaphor of him.

Kicking open the gate, the gunman picked his way across the overgrown front lawn and settled himself on the steps, ignoring their groaning protest as they grudgingly accepted his weight. Settling himself against a once-ornate column, Vincent prepared to spend the night in twilit solitude.

Then his phone began to buzz.

Irritated, Vincent took it from its holder on his belt loop and flipped it open.

_ONE NEW MESSAGE: RECEIVED FEB. 29, 1:13AM_

"Whoever gave Yuffie this number is not going to live very long," Vincent muttered, opening the message and preparing to erase it.

Then he stopped short, his thumb poised over the button that had labeled itself 'delete'.

The message was from Cloud.


	2. I Can't Feel You Anymore

_Chapter Two: I cAn'T fEeL yOu AnYmOrE_

"_Hey. I know you're looking for me."_

A frown line formed between feathery brows. Vincent hit reply and began to type. But before he could finish his response, another message popped up onscreen.

"_Leave me alone."_

Vincent's crimson eyes flared. "What the…" he growled. Quickly hitting the delete key, he started over.

"_What is going on?"_

He hit send and waited. The reply came quickly.

"_Message could not be sent. Number not in service."_

"Damn," Vincent breathed. Exiting the message screen, he tried to trace the message through the satellite.

_One moment, searching…One moment, searching….One moment, searching…_

_Location unkown._

"Damn!" he growled again, knotting the fingers of his good hand in his hair as his claw gripped the small phone, completely engulfing the tiny device in its golden depths.

_What is he thinking?_ Vincent demanded silently. _Why is he doing this to us? _Letting his phone fall into his lap, he put his head in his hands. _Why is he doing this to _her Glowing crimson eyes peeked through his fingers, traveling involuntarily to Tifa's window.

_She doesn't deserve this._

Pushing himself to his feet, he flipped open his phone and pulled up the message once more, then started toward her house. He ignored the front steps, instead bounding up onto the roof of the porch. He raised a fist to rap on the window, but what he saw in its grimy depths momentarily stayed his hand.

Tifa sat at her piano, fingers gliding gently over the keys as she played a soft, haunting melody. Her long hair tumbled over her face and she, being so absorbed in the music, let it lie.

When the song was over, Tifa released the pedal and closed the lid, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. They were troubled but dry; biting her lip, she took down a picture taken of her and Cloud enjoying themselves in front of the then-active Mako Reactor. She kissed the glass, then, replacing it in solemn reverence, let her black-maned head sink into her hands.

Vincent's eyes narrowed. Moving silently, he ascended to the roof of the house and settled himself against the chimney, gazing broodingly at the screen on his phone. Suddenly angry, he jammed down the delete key and let the message slip away into cyberspace.

"At least now she has hope," he growled. "Cloud, you understand better than anyone how terrible it is to be alone. Something is going on here; I just wish you would leave Tifa out of it."

Hours later, Vincent had finally started to drift off into sleep when he was suddenly aware of someone standing a little to his left. Immediately he was on his feet and fully alert, Cerberus cocked and trained on the intruder's heart.

"Relax, Vincent," came Tifa's voice. "It's just me."

Vincent shoved the gun back into its holster. "You shouldn't do that," he grumbled, ruby eyes two pinpoints of light in the darkness.

"Well, what did you want me to do – throw a stick at you?" she asked with a grin. "That would have gone over well."

Vincent rolled his eyes and sat down again. "Or you could have tried calling my name," he retorted.

Tifa's smile faded. "I was just trying to make a joke."

Vincent shrugged. Then his phone began to vibrate. He opened it at once, eyes darting across the text on the screen. When he saw it really _was_ from Yuffie this time, he allowed himself a sigh of relief.

Tifa crept over and settled herself beside him, resting her arms on her knees as she leaned over to read the message scrolling across the little square of light. "'I'm still waiting for you to call, you know,'" she read aloud, then shot him a quick smile. "You two got a thing or something?"

"_She_ has a thing," he muttered, flipping the phone shut with a sharp click. "I want nothing to do with her."

"Oh come on, she's not _that_ bad," Tifa chided. "Personally, I think you two would be good for each other. You could be her serious side, and she could be your sense of humor." She caught his incredulous stare and laughed. "I'm just kidding."

"Not funny."

"Sorry."

A few minutes crept by in silence. Then, "I'm sorry I'm putting you through this, Vincent," Tifa murmured. "It's just…I didn't know who else I could turn to. You're the only one I feel I can trust."

_If only you could feel my heart burning inside of me._ Vincent didn't answer.

"I mean, Barrett's too hot tempered, Cid could care less, Nanaki is God-knows-where…" Tears glistened in the moonlight. "And you're the only one who takes me seriously. To everyone else, I'm just some stupid little kid with a crush."

"We all were at one point," Vincent replied.

Tifa rested her chin on her arms. "I guess so. But you know what else?"

Vincent cocked his head.

"You can do anything," Tifa mumbled, flicking him a glance out of the corner of her eye.

A sardonic smile tugged at the corner of Vincent's lips. "Anything, huh?" he asked cynically. "There always seems to be something I can't do, no matter how hard I try." _Like understand myself,,_ he added silently.

"Well, maybe that was a bad choice of words," Tifa admitted. "No one can do everything. We're all human--"

"Some of us more so than others."

"But you just have this air about you that no matter how much trouble someone's in, you can get them out of it," Tifa finished, ignoring his interruption. "And it's…comforting."

"While appreciated, your confidence in me is unfounded. There are many things I cannot…could not…do." Vincent stared into the palm of his clawed hand.

The raven-haired girl tilted his chin up and forced him to look her in the eye. "Listen to me," Tifa grated, voice firm and commanding. "Lucrecia couldn't save herself. You did everything you could for her. I mean, come on, Vincent, you gave your life for her! She chose her own path – there was nothing you could do." She let her hand fall, bangs tumbling across her eyes. "Believe me, I know. Oh, God, do I know…"

Vincent's frozen heart stirred. Even if he couldn't bring himself to believe them, her words held a passionate desire to share his burden that refused to be denied. Slowly he reached out and cupped her cheeks, rubbing a tear from the corner of her eye with a gentle thumb. "That means a lot to me, Tifa," he murmured.

The girl bit back a sob and attempted to smile through her tears. "I'm glad," she whispered. She laid a hand over his. "I just wish I could help _him_."

Vincent bit his lip. Even with him so close, Tifa could only think of Cloud. _But of course she does!_ he told himself angrily. _Why does it matter so much?_

His dark thoughts were interrupted abruptly by Tifa throwing herself against his chest, just as she had two months earlier in the bar.

"Oh God, Vincent, I just know something's wrong. I can feel it!" she cried, knotting her fingers in his red cloak. "Cloud needs help, and I don't even know where to find him! What do I do? What do I do?"

Sobs began to wrack her slender frame. Vincent's ebony eyelashes lowered in pain, and he held her to him with all his might. "Tifa," he called softly, tangling his fingers in her hair, "Tifa, calm down. Calm down – it's going to be all right. We'll find him. Don't worry, don't worry…" The gunman sat helpless as she cried into his chest. Soon she was coughing and drawing ragged breaths – the lack of sleep and emotional strain was coming through in a torrent of tears. _If she keeps this up much longer, she'll strangle herself,_ Vincent thought worriedly. Then, without considering the consequences, he pressed his lips against hers, cutting her off in midsob.

Tifa stiffened, feeling his frozen kiss through the haze of misery. It was so soft – almost pleading in its need to calm her. Without really knowing why, she allowed him to comfort her and parted her lips against his.

Vincent explored the fiery depths of her mouth, savoring the taste of innocence and wondering vaguely how Cloud could leave such a wonderful treasure behind. Tifa didn't respond, but she didn't have to; Vincent knew that when this moment had passed, Tifa would never allow such a display again. And so, without realizing that his heart was pounding in his throat with a sensation he hadn't felt in years, he simply enjoyed holding her close enough to hear the breath catch in her throat as her hysteria finally died away.

After a few moments more, he released her lips, crimson eyes studying the black depth of mystery before him for some sort of reaction. The girl avoided his gaze, choosing instead to let her eyes wander off into the night, leaving him behind to brood in the shadows. Feeling he had somehow dug himself a hole he would have trouble climbing out of, the gunner quickly shook off the strange feeling rising in his chest and stood up.

"You should go back inside," he said at last. He offered a helping hand, but it was as if he was no longer there at all. The young girl at his side had lost herself in the night, letting its tendrils of darkness wind their way into her thoughts…

"Tifa," Vincent ventured again, "I…I didn't mean anything by…what just happened. It's just – I didn't know what else to do…" he trailed off, helpless, cursing himself for the soundless salvation of his thoughts that always formed the words that never came. Collecting the broken pieces of his heart, he bowed his head. "The kiss was…"

"Not meant for me. I know."

Vincent's head snapped up. "That's not what--"

"It never is," she continued in a low tone, eyes still fixated on something in the distance. "It's always for someone we can't have. It's always for the one who leaves us alone to rot away – cold and forgotten – in a world that left us the day they died." She hugged her knees to her chest, but did not let her gaze fall.

The gunner felt as if someone had dumped ice cold water down his throat. "Tifa…"

"It's never about the ones that are still here, is it?" she interrupted, keeping her voice as soft and gentle – and as icy cold – as new-fallen snow. "We can try, but we can never measure up to what might have been. We are the here and now…but they are the heaven that was but a single right step away. But then again…reality is always the loser when it the closest alternative is a dream…"

Vincent studied her for a moment, crimson eyes glistening in the moonlight. "Reality is certainly a frigid thing compared to a dream," he murmured softly. "But when it comes to needing something to hold onto, even something colder than the grave that holds the heaven than might have been is better than slipping through the mist into darkness."

Tifa's eyes flashed in the twilight, breaking away at last from whatever hold the darkness had held on her. "How can you say that? To you, Lucrecia--"

"I never said I was completely exempt from that little generalization," Vincent interrupted. "Lucrecia is a memory I will carry forever; there will not be a day I will not wish I could have saved her from herself." Vincent folded his arms beneath his cloak. "But I believe I have finally started to move on. I do not deny that there are times I think of her and wonder if I could have made her happy. But like I said before – she is nothing more than a memory, and you and Cloud were the ones who showed me that."

_Liar. It was only you._

"I hope that one day I can find someone who will care for me…as much as you care for Cloud," he murmured, letting his own eyes drift into the shadows. Though it throbbed with a sullen ache, his heart felt lighter as Tifa rose to her feet and took his arm.

"You will," she whispered. "I promise." She laid her head against his shoulder.

Vincent did not respond, nor did he pull her close. _Why can't I just say it?_ he wondered silently, stealing a glance at her from the corner of his eye. _Why do the words always elude me? Three syllables. That's all it would take. That's all it would have taken._

_That's all it will ever take._

"Tifa."

"Hmm?" she flicked a damp glance at his pale face.

He paused a moment. Then, turning her back toward her window, he whispered in her ear, "We'll find him. He loves you very much, Tifa. He could never live without you."

"Unless Aerith came back," she grumbled. Catching his look of utter disbelief, she frantically waved her hand. "I was kidding, I was kidding!"

Without another word, Vincent turned on his heel and bounded into the night.


	3. I Sense a Change

(A/N: Hey guys. Thanks for your reviews. I hope I can rack up a few more – I really want to know what everybody thinks. Please speak up – every review is greatly appreciated. Thanks.)

Nine o'clock sharp the next day, Vincent's claw rapped a steely knock on Tifa's front door. The day was crisp and cold; the sun burned away the last of the mist with rays that only whispered of warmth. The sunlight danced merrily in the gunner's black locks, mocking his gloomy disposition with a myriad of color. The gunman didn't seem to notice.

At last the door was opened. Tifa's mother, in her flowery pink nightdress, greeted him with tired eyes and stood back to let him enter.

"Tifa's not feeling well," she mumbled, twisting her hands in the hems of her sleeves as he closed the door softly behind him. A faint blush rose on her cheeks, but Vincent paid it no heed. It was the reaction he normally received – whether it was from horror or something else, however, he could never be sure.

"What's wrong?"

"She became violently ill around six o'clock this morning," her mother said wearily. "She hasn't been able to leave the bathroom since." The older woman paused a moment, then, "You haven't been keeping her out in the cold these past two months, have you?"

Vincent folded his arms, eyes flashing in the dim glow of the overhead light. "She has always had a warm place to sleep," he replied coldly.

Tifa's mother's flush deepened. "I-I'm sorry. It's just that I know you prefer to spend your nights outside and--"

"Forget it." Vincent brushed past her and headed for the stairs.

"Do you two sit outside and talk like that often?" The older woman's voice floated to his ears, and he stopped just below the landing.

Seeing him pause, she hurried to stay him longer. "She enjoys it very much. Being with you has made this whole ordeal a little easier on her heart. But…"

"But what?" he muttered.

"But…given her current situation…I have to ask." She moved a little closer and placed her hand on the banister. "Have you been having relations with my daughter?"

Vincent slowly looked over his shoulder, black tresses falling dangerously about his shoulders. His eyes seemed to catch fire as they caught and held the tired irises of the woman before him.

"I am not the sort of man that would ruin a relationship for the sake of self gratification," he murmured, his voice cold as ice and twice as sharp. Then he resumed his ascent, burning with quiet anger as involuntary images of Lucrecia in Hojo's arms swam before his eyes.

Rounding the corner at the top of the stairs, he headed for the bathroom at the end of the hall. Without a moment's hesitation, he rapped on the old wooden door.

"Mother, I told you there's nothing you can do," came the mumbled reply.

"It's me," Vincent said softly.

There was a pause. "Oh," she said at last. "Um…Vincent…you can head on out without me today. As I'm sure mother already told you, I'm feeling a little under the weather." The gunman pursed his lips as she retched again.

"Are you sure?"

"P…positive," she groaned. "I feel like I'm about to puke up my intestines."

"I see." Vincent leaned against the wall outside the door. His eyes wandered over photographs featuring various phases of Tifa's life, wondering vaguely how she had once managed to wedge herself beneath the couch. "Well, if you're sure." He turned to go.

He was halfway down the hall when the door swung open, revealing a very weary Tifa in blue and white striped pajamas. Vincent stopped automatically, his cape whispering around his silent feet as he waited to hear what she had to say.

"I know what you're thinking," she said at last. "Even I've been wondering. But I know it isn't the reason I'm…this sick."

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "And what was I thinking?" he asked quietly.

Tifa flushed. "Well…I guess it's no secret that Cloud and I were…intimate…before he left and that leads to…certain things…"

Vincent's face showed no emotion, but, if one looked close enough, they could see that he was biting his tongue. In response, however, he only nodded.

"But that's not what this is," Tifa said firmly, steadying herself with a steely grip on the doorknob. "I checked."

Vincent became vaguely aware that his tongue was bleeding.

"I was…disappointed," Tifa went on, chalking up his silence to a personality trait. "I thought…maybe if I was…he would come back." She pushed her hair behind her ears. "Silly, I know…I mean, how would he even know about it? But still – it gave me hope."

"It wasn't unfounded," Vincent murmured. "In your heart of hearts, you knew that if he never came back, he would live on in your child."

Tifa said nothing.

"So you're giving up, then?" Vincent asked in a low voice.

Tifa looked away. "I don't know."

Vincent started to reply, but then, thinking better of it, swallowed it with a mouthful of blood. "Suit yourself," he said quietly. "I, however, will keep looking. By all the gods that might have been, I swear to you that I will find him – and I will bring him back to you."

_Then I will make him pay for every tear he made you cry._

Vincent swept down the stairs, his red cloak billowing out behind him. Tifa bounded onto the landing and leaned over the railing.

"Vincent!"

The gunner glanced over his shoulder with his claw on the doorknob.

"Be careful," she mumbled. "I'm sorry I'm not going with you. It's just…right now I can't stand the thought of another letdown. Perhaps in a little while--"

"I'll be back in a month," he replied curtly. Then he opened the door and was gone.

Tifa sank to her knees behind the railing. "If there is a God," she whispered, "please…please don't let this world take Vincent too."

As he left the gates of Neibelheim behind, Vincent flipped open his phone and scrolled through his contact list until he came to a number he never thought he would use. It was the last one on the list – and the reason was not simply because her name was at the end of the alphabet. Bracing himself, he brought the phone to his ear.

It didn't even ring twice.

"Vincent!" Yuffie's voice thundered through the earpiece, forcing the gunner to hold the phone a foot away from his ear. "I just knew you'd call me back eventually! I've been waiting and waiting and all my friends thought you wouldn't crack, but I knew that you weren't the sort of guy to keep a lady waiting and I told them that but they always just laughed at me but haha now I'll show them--"

"Cloud is missing," Vincent interrupted, knowing that he could probably walk to Wutai in the time it took for her to finish.

"Yeah, I heard about that," Yuffie replied, suddenly serious. "Reeve called me about a month ago asking if I'd seen him, but I had to tell him no. So you're saying he hasn't been to see Tifa either?"

"…no." Vincent chanced bringing the phone back to his ear. "We've been searching for going on two months now. Not a trace."

"That's not very nice of him," Yuffie stated indignantly. "If I was a guy and I had a girl as great as Tifa, I wouldn't leave her alone for a second."

_God, do I know it._ "Yeah."

"Aww, are you worried about her, Vincent?" she teased. But there was a serious note buried somewhere in the jab that could not be ignored.

"She's given up," Vincent murmured, ignoring her question. He decided to leave out the part about the possibility of a child.

"Given up?! Tifa?! No way!"

"I don't say things I don't mean," Vincent muttered, exasperated. "She's not with me. She's back in Neibelheim, sick with grief."

"The poor girl," Yuffie sniffled.

"That's why I need you to help me find Cloud – and fast." Vincent started off again, heading in the general direction of Rocket Town. "Unfortunately, I don't even know where he was last seen, let alone have an idea of where he might be now. We need to start as soon as possible. How quickly can you get to Rocket Town?"

"Umm…by tomorrow morning if I…" – she gulped – "…fly."

"This is important, Yuffie," Vincent reminded her.

"Uh, but there's this awesome underground train service that could get me there in three days--"

"Yuffie," Vincent growled menacingly.

"Oh, okay, okay! But don't blame me if I throw up all over you at the airport."

A small smile curled his lips. "That's a chance I'll have to take."

"Alrighty then," she sighed. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow. And you'd better be there to catch me when I fall off that plane, cuz if you're not--"

"Goodbye, Yuffie," Vincent said firmly, and snapped his phone shut.

The next morning, Vincent stood at the gate in the new airport of Rocket Town, waiting for Yuffie's flight to finally arrive. It had been delayed three times due to storms, and it was announced over the loudspeaker that extreme turbulence might postpone the arrival time even further.

_Yuffie_ _must be having a heart attack,_ Vincent thought idly.

"_Attention travelers- flight 125 has landed and will be unloading at gate 23 in ten minutes. Flight 256 will depart shortly following. Thank you for flying with Midgar Airlines."_

Vincent glanced up. _Damn. Gate 33._ Pushing himself away from the wall, he ignored the stares of the other travelers and headed toward the gate.

When he finally managed to plow his way through the gaping crowd, the last few stragglers were exiting the loading dock. Vincent frowned slightly, scanning each passenger with crimson eyes as they passed him by.

Eventually, a man in uniform approached him from the desk. "Mr. Vincent Valentine, I take it?" he asked politely.

The gunman nodded warily. _Don't tell me she really _did _have a heart attack_, he thought mirthlessly.

"Um…a young lady by the name of Yuffie Kisaragi requests your assistance from the cabin. She says she won't get off without you."

_I might have known_. "Where is she?" Vincent asked irritably.

"I'll take you to her," the young man offered, relieved to finally be able to resume his duties. He led Vincent onto the plane and pointed to the very back row, where a pair of hiking boots were poking out from under a blanket draped across the seats.

Vincent immediately set off down the aisle. Stopping at her side, the gunner squatted down at her side and plucked the blanket from the huddled form.

"I told you," she said muddily, "I need Vincent."

"Yuffie, you're being ridiculous," Vincent hissed.

The girl sat up and rubbed her eyes. "God, it really is you!" she exclaimed. Throwing her arms around his neck, she curled into him with a quiet sniffle. "I kept thinking you were here, but then it always turned out to be that smelly old guy beside me who just _happened_ to be wearing a red coat and--"

"I take it you're too sick to walk," he commented testily. For some reason, being with this girl always brought out the worst in him.

She smiled apologetically. "Bingo."

"You're such a pain," he muttered, hoisting her into a threshold carry and toting her toward the door.

"People usually…urp…think so," she replied happily.

As they passed the man in uniform, he gave Vincent a grateful nod. "Have a nice day, sir," he grinned.

Vincent ground his teeth and headed for the exit.

"I sure hate flying," Yuffie told him brightly. "It makes me feel like Cloud ran me through with that one sword – you know, the really, really big one--"

"I'm sorry," Vincent said idly, trying to drown her out in the buzz of humanity that surrounded him on every side. Sadly, it wasn't working.

"Aw, it's not your fault," she said jovially. "Well, it kinda is, considering you wouldn't let me take the train…"

Vincent rolled his eyes. He wound his way through the writhing mass of humanity and finally made it out the door.

"What, no witty retort?" Yuffie teased, hiding a grin behind her hand. When he didn't reply, she snuggled back against his powerful chest. "Can't say I'm surprised. Oh well. I'm just happy that I'm with you again."

The gunner bit the inside of his cheek. _If only _she _would say those words..._ "Are you feeling better yet?" he grumbled.

"Well, I guess I could _try_ to stand, but it might not end well…"

"I'm willing to take that chance if you are," he said monotonously. His eyes remained trained on the road ahead – he was heading for the little shack on the edge of town.

"Uh-uh. Not me. Even if _you_ wouldn't mind having puke all over you, that taste is not something I'd like to experience again any time soon if I can help it. So if you don't mind, I'm gonna stay right here." She laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes.

_Somehow I get the feeling she's enjoying this,_ Vincent thought irritably. But he didn't protest further – just continued silently toward his destination.

A few minutes later, he felt the girl shift, and he flicked his eyes across her curled form. She was gazing up at him, an expression on her face that somehow didn't fit her bubbly personality. Concerned at this unexpected change, Vincent furrowed his brow.

"What is it?" he asked at last.  
"Nothing." She let her eyes fall to her knees. "It's just…you're so cold, Vincent."

"That's usually what happens when you die."

"I don't mean that!" she protested impatiently, gently slapping his hand. "I mean…well, you in general. You act like this is such a burden on you."

_You don't know the half of it. _Vincent said nothing, letting his careful steps guide him onward.

"But if this is such a deadweight on your shoulders, why do you keep at it?" Yuffie asked, almost pleading as she waited for a plausible answer. "I know you don't like me, but you called me anyway to try and help you get to the bottom of this. If it truly doesn't matter that much, why are you going to such trouble to help?"

"I don't have a choice," he replied tiredly.

Yuffie blinked. "Of…of course you do!" she exclaimed. "Everyone has a choice! It's just a matter of--"

"You don't understand," he said softly, shaking his head ever so slightly. Yuffie shivered as his long black tresses whispered across her cheek.

"Every time I see her cry, I want to kill him," he murmured. "Every time she whispers his name in the night, I long to see him hurt the way she does; and – worst of all – I want to be the cause of it." He drew a shaky breath. "But…when I see her smile like only he can make her smile, all I want to do is find him and bring him back to her…if only to see her smile like that forever. With so many mixed emotions canceling each other out, how can I be anything but cold?"

Before she could reply, a blow from behind sent Yuffie tumbling to the ground. "Vincent!" she cried, twisting to her feet, her hand flying to the throwing stars at her belt. But when she saw their attacker, she let her hand drop, a giggly laugh escaping her lips.

"Vincent, you little shit, howya been?" Cid exclaimed, clapping the gunner on the back with a hand stronger than steel. "Haven't seen you for damn near a year and a half. What the hell've you been doin'? Messin' around with little miss thief over there? Ahh, I should've known…"

"Hardly," Vincent said icily, trying without success to escape the hand that was hammering relentlessly on his shoulder blade. "I came here to ask you if you'd seen Cloud."

"Cloud?" the pilot repeated, scratching his head. "Nope, can't says I have. Why, has the little bugger gone missin'?"

The gunner gave him an incredulous look. "You didn't know?"

"No one ever tells me a damn thing!" Cid roared. "How can you sunnavabitches expect me to know these things if ya never call me?! Shera and me've been out her twiddlin' our thumbs waitin' for the next adventure, and you've got the gall ask me if I didn't know?!"

Vincent rubbed his ear. "Sorry."

Cid shrugged. "Well, I guess as long as ya swear to keep me in the loop from now on, I can forgive ya. Now tell me, what's this business about Cloud going AWOL?"  
"He's been missing for over two months now," Vincent explained, folding his arms before him. "Tifa and I have been looking everywhere, but we haven't found a trace."

"The poor gal must be traumatized," Cid said with a nod. "They were pretty tight, she and him. Musta broke her heart." He spat into the grass. "Bastard."

Vincent said nothing.

Cid rubbed the bubbly wad into the dirt with the heel of his boot. "Well, no use talkin' out here. Might as well get our asses inside and have a drink." He paused to catch Vincent's gaze. "You _do _drink somethin' other than blood, doncha?"

Vincent narrowed his eyes.

"Only jokin'. Don't getcher balls in a knot," Cid laughed. "Well, let's be off then." Hooking the gunman around the neck, he steered his protesting companion toward the little house on the edge of town.

Yuffie followed the two men, but at a slightly slower pace; she wanted to think a few things over before she had to listen to Cid torturing Vincent over a mug of beer. The gunner's words echoed in her mind, getting louder and louder each time they struck the wall of her skull.

"You've loved her for a long time, haven't you, Vincent Valentine?" she whispered, training her eyes on his retreating form. Shaking her head in disbelief, she lost herself in her thoughts until the door swung shut behind her.


	4. I am Selfish

(A/N: Thanks to everybody who sent in a review. I really appreciate it. Please continue to do so as the story progresses. Kudos.)

"Two months, eh?" Cid whistled through his teeth. "Seems like an awful long time to be searchin' for a bugger like Cloud. Usually you can find 'im just by followin' his fanclub."

"Cloud's popularity aside, the fact remains that we still have no idea where he is," Vincent growled. He stared languidly into the glass of amber liquid, wondering if Cid had any idea that he had never touched alcohol in his life. He glanced up, red eyes flicking across the pilot's weathered face. "Which brings me to the reason for our visit."

Cid raised an eyebrow. "Yer not flyin' my airship," he declared, waving a warning finger in the gunman's direction.

Vincent's brow furrowed dangerously. "I don't think you understand quite how serious this situation is," he said icily.

"I understand perfectly, dipshit!" Cid exclaimed, pounding Vincent good naturedly on the shoulder. "That's why I'm gonna fly it for you!" He whipped around. "Shera! I'm gonna be takin' these two kids on a mission t'morrah! Willya watch after the house for me?"

"Will do," came the response from the kitchen. "Don't let them get into any trouble, dear."

Cid grinned and thumbed his nose. "Shucks, Shera, as if I'd let these li'l brats get into any trouble." He winked at Yuffie who stifled a laugh. "Not without my comin' withya, at least," he whispered genially.

Vincent rubbed his shoulder. "Sometimes I think you forget that I'm at least ten years older than you," he muttered, shooting Cid an irritated glance.

"Maybe so, but there's a difference between havin' a heartbeat and livin'," Cid retorted. Swinging his legs off the table, he scooted his chair back and stood up. "An' y'know what? Livin' ain't so bad. You should try it sometime." Flashing a meaningful look into the gunner's crimson eyes, the pilot turned on his heel and headed toward the kitchen.

Yuffie watched him go, then turned to Vincent. "What was that about?" she asked.

Vincent shrugged enigmatically and pushed himself out of his chair. "I'm going to bed, he said curtly, flicking his cloak over his shoulder as he turned to go.

The ninja girl raised an eyebrow at the clock. "What? Why? It's only eight thirty! We could have so much fun!" she protested incredulously.

"I'm tired." Without waiting for a response, the gunner ascended the stairs and disappeared into one of the rooms on the second floor.

"Ugh!" Yuffie slammed her hands down on the table. "That man! Doesn't he ever want to just have a night on the town?"

_If Tifa had asked, he would have stayed out all night,_ she thought bitterly. She pulled out a handful of throwing stars and a whetstone, mumbling something that sounded a great deal like 'eight thirty my ass' as she prepared for another boring night alone.

It was two o'clock in the morning before Yuffie finally decided to head upstairs to bed. She had sharpened every one of her throwing stars (all three hundred and ninety seven of them) and would have moved on to her hidden knives had her whetstone not ceased to exist. And so, with her blurry eyes still seeking out imperfections on invisible blades, she tottered up the stairs and made for the spare room at the end of the hall.

Opening the door quietly, she slipped inside and let the latch fall closed behind her. She proceeded to pick her way carefully across the hardwood floor, groping blindly for the bed Shera had made up for her and hoping to God that she didn't step on Vincent - who had most likely fallen asleep on the rug. _THAT wouldn't be pleasant,_ she thought sleepily. _I'd be lucky if I only ended up dead._

Finally locating the small blanket smothered mattress against the back wall, she lowered herself onto it and pulled her knees up under her chin. On a whim, she held her breath and listened very closely, straining in the silence of the darkened room. At last the soft sound reached her ears – the steady breath leaving the gunman's parted lips. She blew out a small sigh and buried her nose between her knees. It always felt good to know he was near – even if it was only in body.

_I wish I could know you,_ she told him mentally. _I wish I could be with you…_

…_always…_

A few minutes ticked by in silence. Then, without really knowing why, Yuffie swung her legs over the side of the bed and slipped onto the floor. She began to make her way across the room on all fours, afraid that if she stood straight she would trip over the sleeping beauty and her plan would be ruined. At last her fingertips ghosted across a wave of soft tresses cascading from a rough bandana, pillowed by nothing but the thin carpet and broken dreams.

_Found you,_ she thought happily, tracing her fingers through the velvety locks. Her heart skipped a beat as they alighted on his silky skin; she gently cupped his cheek with a loving hand.

Vincent stirred slightly. "Mmm…" For a split second, two pinpoints of crimson light appeared in the darkness, then flickered out again as the gunman settled back into sleep. Yuffie let out the breath she didn't remember drawing, wondering idly at the burning sensation the soft murmur had wrung from somewhere near the pits of her stomach. Allowing her fingertips to linger on his cheek for a few moments more, she then traced her hand down his arm until she found his claw. _It's probably better you can't feel this,_ she told him silently as she gently laced her fingers into the cold metal. She softly lowered herself until she was laying beside him and rolled against his side, burying her face in the front part of his cloak. The material was rough and the underlying leather was frigidly cold, but the idea of being so close to him sent a fire raging through her body that chased the chill away.

"Tifa be damned," she whispered, the late hours of the night getting the best of her cheerful personality as she spoke her heart at last. "You sure as hell mean the world to me."

Hours later, Vincent was awakened to the realization that he was cradling someone in his arms. Sleepy crimson eyes flickered open, casting their scarlet glow into the predawn shadows. Yuffie's peaceful features swam into view, and for a muddled moment he envied her the still serenity the innocent call sleep. For him, the world of dreams was nothing but nightmares.

He was preparing to gently remove her from his embrace when she reached up around his back and tangled her fingers in his hair. The gunman started, red eyes darting across her sleeping face.

"Vincent, don't go…" she mumbled, nestling her head underneath his chin. "It's…too early to be moving…" A deep sigh flowed across his neck, tickling his skin with her sweet breath.

"Yuffie…" Her tender plea reminded him of something someone had said to him long ago… An image of Lucrecia hunched over her computer swam before his eyes, veiled by fluorescent blue liquid and reinforced glass, the image of defeat and despair…

_Vincent, please don't go…don't leave me here alone…_

The hazy memory forced him to let her lie. Rolling onto his back, he tossed one arm across his forehead and stared blankly into the shadows, leaving the other arm around the sleeping girl as he let his mind wander across the possibilities the future might hold.

_Suppose we don't find Cloud_, he mused. _What then? Would she be able to move on?_

The first rays of dawn were beginning to peak through the shuttered windows. They would be leaving in just a few short hours. _To where?_ Vincent wondered, realizing at last that he had no idea where to begin. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks; so what if Cid had agreed to lend them the airship? Without a destination, whether they walked, flew, or sat on their asses was of no importance.

"Damn!" he breathed into the darkness. The supple fingers of his good hand tightened unconsciously on Yuffie's waist as Reeve's parting words echoed through his mind: if Cloud doesn't want to be found, you're not going to find him. They could search the planet three times over, but if the elusive swordsman wanted to remain undiscovered…

"Vincent, what is it?"

The gunman blinked, shaken from his dark thoughts by the soft query issuing from somewhere near his collarbone. He glanced down, meeting her questioning eyes with his own troubled gaze. The silence dragged out as he considered his words, and she studied his handsome features with worried eyes.

"We will not find him," Vincent said at last. He glared into the darkness over her shoulder. "Reeve was right. If Cloud doesn't want to be found, we're not going to find him. It's as simple as that. God, why didn't I realize this sooner?"

_Because you wanted to help Tifa_

_You wanted to see her smile…if only for a little longer._

Yuffie bit her lip. "Vincent…"

"He means everything to her," he grated, eyes fixed on nothing as he tangled his claw in his hair. "It's been two months since we've started this ridiculous search, and we've found nothing. Not a trace. Yet still we kept at it, hoping that if we were diligent enough, we would…" He searched for the words. "…find what isn't there."

Yuffie was quiet for a moment. Then, "Maybe he wants you to find him, but it's just that he can't be found," she said slowly.

Vincent tore his gaze from the shadows and shot her a questioning look. "What do you mean?"

"What if something happened?" she asked, getting excited now. "What if there's something going on that we should have seen, but were too wrapped up in our own lives to notice?"

"You didn't see the message he sent me," Vincent muttered.

The ninja girl blinked. "What message?"

"I received a message from Cloud just the other day. It said, 'Hey. I know you're looking for me. Leave me alone'." The gunman glared into the palm of his claw. "I don't know about you, but that made me think that he's fine…but just doesn't care enough to come home."

"Or maybe he's in trouble and someone is forcing him to keep quiet. Have you ever considered that?" Yuffie demanded.

Vincent snorted. "No one can subdue Cloud."

"No one but Sephiroth!" Yuffie almost shouted. She rolled on top of him and pushed herself up into pushup position, glaring down her slender nose at the startled gunman as she jammed her finger into his face. "I can't believe you would just disregard a message like that!" she growled. "You know Cloud better than that! Or at least I hope you do. I mean, the guy may be detached, but he cares enough about Tifa – and all of us, for that matter – to at least give a reason if he's going to be gone. Geez, I thought you guys would've known that if Cloud was missing for this long, he was in trouble!"

The gunman narrowed his eyes until they were tiny pinpoints of light peeking out from beneath his swath of sable hair. "You didn't mention this before."

"Well, it _should_ be obvious," she sniffed. "From the way you were talking, it sounded like Tifa had given him up for dead. But she of all people should know that Cloud would never just leave her behind like that. That's not what love is."

"And how would you know about that?" Vincent snarled.

The girl stopped cold. "What do you think?" she grated. Then, in a much softer tone, she asked, "If you asked me to stay…I would never leave you, would I?"

Before he could answer, she leaned down and caught his lips against hers, kissing him feverishly in the growing light of the dawn. Vincent started to pull away, but she caught his hands and laced her fingers into them, pinning him to the ground by settling her weight on top of him in ways that would send any normal man into a frenzy. But Vincent simply watched – watched and waited until she had drunk her fill from his frozen lips.

After about a minute, she pulled back ever so slightly, releasing his hands so she could cup his face. "I wish you could learn to think beyond yourself," she murmured against his mouth, barely containing her desire to claim it once more. "Then I believe you'd be able to help Tifa. And do you know why?"

The gunman said nothing, but the question burned in his eyes.

"Because you'd truly want to make her happy," she answered herself. "You would actually want to find Cloud for her. You would have admitted to yourself that Cloud loves her more than anything and would never leave her unless something was wrong– and that you have to look beyond your selfish needs and do what needs to be done." With this, she kissed his lips one last time and rose to her feet, padding toward the door with a calm purposefulness in her step. She paused when she reached the threshold, flicking one last glance at the gunman who had not moved from his place on the rug. He calmly returned her gaze.

"So where do you propose we start?" he asked softly.

She smiled to herself, knowing that her words had sunk deeper than he would ever let on. "Well," she mused, "for starters, I think we need to stop thinking like Cloud…and start thinking like Sephiroth." Then she smiled and glided down the hall, leaving the gunman to brood in silence.

(A/N: Bleh, I hate Yuffentine…but oh well, not much we can do about it now…R&R)


	5. I am Human After All

(A/N: Okay, for all you peeps who were miffed about the tiny bit of Yuffentine, I repeat – I hate it myself. I promise that will be the only section of that yucky stuff in this story. But it had to be done to progress the plot, so yeah…And I hope I make up for it in this chapter. Read on – you'll see what I mean. 0) Cha.)

"Alrigh', are we all set?" Cid asked the pair as he settled himself behind the wheel and flicked on the controls.

Vincent said nothing, and Yuffie merely nodded. Cid made a face as he gently eased the craft into the air, wondering what the hell could have happened between the two of them that could cause such a rift. Things had started out fine – Yuffie had been chattering away like always – but Vincent's sullen silence had transformed the entire morning into one of furtive glances (at least on the ninja girl's part) and awkward silence, each of them saying just enough to get them through the process of getting ready. Now they were standing on opposite sides of the large bridge, each looking through the glass directly to their side and finding something intriguing on the ground that was rapidly falling beneath them. Cid shook his head in disgust – kids were so weird.

"Well, do we at least know where we're goin'?" he asked irritably. When the two of them made no reply once more, the ornery pilot slammed the descend button with a heavy fist, sending them flying into the air as if they weighed no more than feathers in the wind.

Vincent whirled in the air, slamming his taloned feet into the huge pipe protruding from the ceiling and crouching low in time to keep himself from being plastered on the metal. Yuffie wasn't so lucky. Airsickness had already set in, numbing her usually perfect reflexes into a state of something resembling Jell-O. The girl flew toward the ceiling, barely managing to maneuver herself past the large conduit in a way that sent her spinning out of control toward the unforgiving roof.

"Dammit!" Vincent breathed. Transferring the force of his ascent to his powerful legs, he bounded across the pipe and launched himself into the air, catching Yuffie against his muscular chest and accepting the punishment of the ceiling full force upon his back.

"About damn time ya acknowledged her existence," Cid called from the floor. The gravity stabilizers around his station had kept his feet planted firmly on the deck. He eased the airship out of its mad descent, and Vincent was able to push himself away from the wall and alight upon the bridge. Yuffie clung desperately to his neck.

"You could have killed us," the gunner said menacingly

. Cid shrugged. "Bah. As if a li'l impact like that could kill the great Vincent Valentine."

Vincent narrowed his eyes, unconsciously giving the girl in his arms a comforting squeeze. "I meant her."

"Then it's a damn good thing you didn't let'r fall, righ'?" Cid roared. Hitting the air brakes, he set the craft to hover and sauntered over to where they stood. "Somethin' happened between you two. Well, I don' know what it is and I don' give a flyin' rat's ass – but if it's gonna put our mission in jeopardy, you both're gonna hafta get the hell off my airship until ya can figure it out. I don't have no room for pussies, an' I won' tolerate 'em!" He glared into Vincent's crimson eyes. "Now. Do you wanna find Cloud…or doncha?"

_I wish I knew._ "Of course," the gunner rumbled.

"That's what I thought." Cid turned and headed back for the control station. Hopping back behind the wheel, he released the brake and brought up the coordinate screen. "Now that's settled, where to?"

"The crater," came Yuffie's unsteady voice. Vincent glanced down; the girl had taken her arms from his neck and had pushed herself away from him, tottering a few shaky steps toward the control booth. Cid nodded and looked to the gunner for confirmation.

Vincent folded his arms and turned toward the glass. "The crater."

"Ten four! Let's ride!" Cid gunned the engine and they were off.

Less than twenty minutes later the trio stood on the rim of the yawning cavity, staring down into the crackling dark abyss they thought they had left behind forever. The angel's silenced voice echoed deafeningly through its shadowed depths, taunting them with laughter that rang deep into the bowels of eternity.

_You will never find me until it is too late._

"Brr, does anyone else have the chills?" Yuffie sputtered, clasping her arms around herself and hopping from foot to foot.

"Well, it _is_ only forty three degrees out here," Cid said acidly, "and you were stupid enough t'wear nothin' but shorts and a tank top."

"I didn't just mean the cold! And this is all I brought with me from Wutai!"

"Well, whose fault is that?!"

"Enough," Vincent interrupted. Slipping out of his flowing red cape, he shook out the folds and held it out to her. "It's not very warm, but at least it's something."

Yuffie accepted it gratefully. "Thanks," she mumbled, pulling the cloak around her shoulders and quickly buckling the straps. All the while her eyes lingered on Vincent's muscular body, which was barely concealed by his tightfitting leather jumpsuit.

The gunman didn't seem to notice. Pulling his cell phone out of his back pocket, he flipped the lid and pressed the power key. "We should check in every half hour," he told them briskly. "Cid, I need your number."

"Whatever happened to good ol' walkie talkies?" Cid grumbled, snatching the tiny device out of Vincent's hand and programming his number into the contact list. He snapped it closed and examined the Cerberus on the cover. "Mustya always be so fuckin' morbid?" he growled, handing it back.

The gunman ignored him and tucked the phone away. "Alright. I'll call you both in the next half hour. But if you find anything suspicious, make sure you tell me immediately."

"Yeah, yeah," Cid grumbled. "Talk t'ya then." Swinging his spear over his shoulder, the pilot waved an idle hand and disappeared down the path, whistling a merry tune as he went.

Vincent watched him go. "I don't think he takes anything seriously," he muttered.

"You're probably right," Yuffie agreed with a laugh. "Well, let's get started. Which way are you going?"  
"The opposite way he went." The gunman turned on his heel and headed down the path to his left.

"Well, bye then," Yuffie said under her breath. Wandering to the path that meandered away between the two her friends had taken, she cracked her neck and did a few warm up exercises, enjoying the way the rough material of the cape brushed against her bare skin. "Looks like it's time for the great ninja Yuffie to save the day again!" she chirped happily. Then she took off down the path, letting the wind flutter the cloak out behind her and seriously considering getting one of her own.

Vincent made his way down into the crater with deliberate steps, making sure to take in everything around him as he worked his way toward the battleground that haunted everyone's dreams. As he walked, he replayed the conversation from earlier that morning in his mind.

_She's right,_ he thought at last. _I have been selfish._ Hard packed earth crunched under his feet as he drew his clawed hand along the rocky wall. A myriad of images floated past his mind's eye: Yuffie's face as she claimed his lips, Tifa's tears as she mentally begged Cloud to return, Hojo's ecstasy when he learned that the baby was to be used for his own evil purposes…

_But then again,_ he mused bitterly, _what love is not selfish?_ A mirthless sneer curled his lip. The idea that love was patient and kind was a lie. Love was brooding, egocentric, and fickle. It was demanding and brutal, fueled by the desire to make a living soul belong to another and them alone. And yet…

…and yet it was beautiful. Despite all the misery and aguish that accompanies sharing one's heart with someone else, it was all anyone ever wanted.

_All I ever wanted._

His phone began to ring. Irritated that his gloomy thoughts had been interrupted, Vincent dug into his back pocket with a little more force than was necessary and whipped out the cellular device. Flipping open the screen, his eyes darted across the name of the caller.

_Tifa_ _Lockhart._

Vincent immediately pressed the send key.

"Tifa?"

"Vincent, this is Mrs. Lockhart." The woman's voice was nearing hysterics.

A strange feeling enveloped his soul. "What happened?" he murmured.

"Tifa's gone," she moaned. "I went out a few days ago a little while after you left – Tifa asked me to check up on the bar – I didn't think it would be a problem – but when I got back…" A strangled sob echoed through the earpiece.

"D…do you have any idea where she could have gone?" he asked dazedly.

"I think she went to look for Cloud on her own."

Vincent cursed silently. Why would she send him away if she wanted to continue looking? Hadn't she said that he was the only one she felt she could trust? "Why would she…" he began, then stopped as the realization came crashing down upon him.

"Oh God," he whispered.

"What? What is it?"

"I don't have time to explain," Vincent growled into the mouthpiece. He was already bounding back up the path toward the rim of the crater. "I'll call you as soon as I find your daughter – and I promise you I will." Before she could reply, he had hung up the phone and was preparing to dial Cid when the phone began to ring again.

"Now what?!" he roared. He pressed send and brought the phone to his ear. "What?!"

"Vincent!" Yuffie's voice floated through the earpiece. "I was exploring the area around the bottom of the crater and I found Tifa! She's really hurt – I think she slipped and fell trying to cross this really rough section of the path - !"

"I'll be there in a second," Vincent told her firmly. "What part of the crater are you in?"

"I'm near the west wall, close to where we fought Sephiroth," she explained. "Hurry Vincent – she's not breathing!"

_Tifa, what were you thinking?!_ "Give her CPR. I'm coming as fast as I can." He attempted to shove the phone back into his pocket, but his frenzied hands couldn't guide the small device and it fell to the rocky path. He paid it no heed – he was concentrating on becoming that which had damned his soul and yet had saved them all time and time again.

_Chaos, I need you now,_ he growled silently. He felt the monster respond, and his body began to change. _Hold on, Tifa. I'm coming._

When the transformation was complete, he sprinted to the edge of the precipice and, with a feral cry, unfolded his wings and launched himself into the abyss. The wind was caught beneath his twenty foot wingspan and lifted him upon its currents, drawing him up into the sky until he folded them against his sides and shot down into the crater, yellow eyes scanning the mounds of snow even as he went.

Finally he spotted the pair about fifteen feet from the crater wall. Flaring his wings, he dropped to the ground from a dizzying height of thirty feet and slid to a stop beside Yuffie.

The ninja girl held Tifa cradled on her lap. She had draped Vincent's cloak across the girl's frigid body and was attempting to blow life into her collapsed lungs. When she heard Vincent approach, she looked up at him with terrified tears littering her cheeks.

"I can't get her to breathe," she whispered.

"Go find Cid." Vincent quickly – but gently – removed Tifa from Yuffie's arms and laid her back in the snow. Yuffie nodded numbly and dashed down the path. Without a moment's hesitation, Chaos sealed his metallic lips over hers, using all the monster's extraordinary lungpower to push life back into the girl's body.

_Breathe, dammit,_ he willed her silently, feeling her heartbeat slipping away even as he held tightly to her wrist. _Breathe! Tifa, you can't leave me here…you have to live. You have to live!_

He breathed again, crushing her to him, unaware that he was praying that anyone who would listen would just bring this beautiful girl back to him.

_The same thing happened to Lucrecia,_ he remembered suddenly, _when she was pregnant with Sephiroth._ But before he could think this all the way through, Tifa sputtered and drew a ragged breath.

"V…Vincent…?" she asked faintly, her frozen lips moving gently against his. Vincent's eyes snapped open, and relief flooded his yellow irises.

"Tifa," he murmured. He pulled her against him, enveloping her in his silver arms and crimson wingspan. "Thank God…"

The girl clung to him, attempting to draw what little warmth she could from the recesses of his icy body. "I'm scared, Vincent," she whispered. Tears spilled from her auburn eyes and splashed onto his shoulder.

Vincent held her tighter. "Why did you come here?" he demanded.

"I heard him," she said softly. "He said he needed me…he said that he couldn't escape unless I came to help him…" She coughed. "… so I came here…and that's when I realized…"

"Realized what?" Vincent murmured.

"The voice wasn't Cloud's at all," she said brokenly. "Sephiroth is coming back…through me."

Vincent nodded. "The baby."

Tifa went rigid. "So you knew all along?" she asked in a low voice.

He shook his head. "No. I only figured it out a few minutes ago, when your mother called me and told me you were gone. But Tifa…" He pushed her back so he could look her in the eye. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You would have thought I was crazy," she murmured, letting her hair fall into her face. "You would have tried to stop me. And at the time…all I wanted was to find Cloud…and make things right – even if all I had to go on was a voice I wasn't even sure belonged to him."

_I really am selfish._ Vincent said nothing.

The airship swooped down overhead. Cid's voice boomed over the loudspeaker.

"Vincent! Bring her up!" the pilot commanded. Vincent waved to let him know he heard and scooped Tifa into his arms. She placed her arms around his neck; Chaos spread his wings and prepared to leave the canyon floor.

"Vincent…" Tifa took a deep breath. "Do you know what I'm going to have to do?"

Chaos eyed her abdomen. "Yes. And perhaps, once it is done, Cloud will return to you." He pushed off the ground and flapped his giant wings, rising into the air as easily as an insect in a storm. "Then you can start anew."

Tears formed in her eyes, but she did not cry. "Maybe. But sometimes…I wonder if things'll ever be the same." She closed her eyes and laid her head against his chest.

Vincent started to reply, but he realized that she had fallen unconscious. So he merely soared through the hatch Cid had opened for him in silence, keeping, as he always did, his feelings to himself.

Hours later, Vincent paced the tiny room at the end of the hall in Cid's house, waiting for Tifa to come home from the small hospital at the edge of Rocket Town. She had been taken there immediately upon their return from the crater in the north, and he had received a call saying that her condition was stable and she would be fine. But nothing the doctors did or said would ease his troubled mind, for the decision about the baby was for Tifa and Tifa alone. No one could understand the gravity of this situation better than the two of them, and if the wrong choice was made, they could send the entire world tumbling into oblivion simply because love was too selfish to consider it into its calculations. However, if the right choice was made…

_I really wish there was such a thing as black and white._

This thought echoing in his mind, Vincent sprawled out on the small square of carpet, searching the ceiling for answers that ever eluded him. _Please, Tifa…do what you know is right, even if I can never understand it. _Ruby eyes flickered shut at last as he settled down to wait for her return.

It was well after seven in the evening when the door to the guest room opened to admit Tifa, exhausted and dejected, into its darkened depths. She didn't reach for the lightswitch – instead, she called,

"Vincent, are you here?"

The gunner was instantly awake. He pushed himself to a sitting position, crimson eyes glowing scarlet in the dark. "What happened?" he asked.

"I did it." The girl clasped her hands behind her back. "I explained an…edited version of the story…to a nurse, and she helped me get the proper attention."

He nodded. "You did the right thing, Tifa," he said quietly.

"I hope so, because it sure as hell didn't feel right." She covered her face with her hands. "I mean…that was Cloud's child."

Vincent's eyes flickered to the floor. "Mmhmm," he murmured. "Did the doctor say why you collapsed?"

She shook her head. "No. They couldn't figure it out. They said that nothing was wrong with me and it wasn't cold enough for me to freeze with all the layers I had on…" A helpless shrug rippled her thin shoulders. "My only guess is that it had something to do with Seph…I mean, the baby." The darkness hid the flush burning on her cheeks.

Vincent nodded his agreement. "Lucrecia had similar symptoms," he said quietly. "She would collapse almost on a weekly basis. It became so routine after a while that I…" he trailed off, realizing he was going to start babbling if he didn't seal his lips soon. He let his gaze wander into the shadows.

Tifa followed the direction of his stare, clasping and unclasping her hands as she shifted restlessly from one foot to the other. She was curious about Lucrecia's pregnancy, but she could tell from his silence that he would say no more on the subject. She was about to start a happier conversation when the pinpoints of light that were his eyes met hers in the darkness.

"I have a question," he said softly. "Before…when you said that you wondered if things would ever be the same…what did you mean?"

"Well…it's kind of hard to explain," she said with a nervous laugh. "Maybe…it would be better if I just showed you." She pushed the door shut behind her, turning the lock with slender fingers as she took a step toward him. Vincent watched her intently, burning red eyes watching her every move as if had been daylight. As she approached, his lips parted as he looked up at her, gaze shining with a question that needed no words to answer.

Tifa lowered herself gently onto the floor beside him, sliding her hand behind his head as she did so. Her lips met his in a moment of fiery passion; a gasp slipped into his lungs as she moved onto his lap and snaked her arms around his neck. He caught her against him and allowed her to explore his mouth with a soft moan.

"I love you, Vincent," she whispered, brushing his hair out of his face with a tender hand. "Even if Cloud did come back…things would never be the same between us because…now I have you…if you'll have me."

Vincent was about to hiss a low 'yes…' when suddenly his eyes flickered open and, in a moment of brutal clarity, he pulled himself away from the warm embrace of her lips. "This isn't right," he murmured, his lengthy tresses tickling her nose as he bowed his head against hers. Oh, how he longed to simply drown himself in her and leave the world behind…

Tifa blinked, pain glimmering in the pools of molten chocolate rimmed by silky black lashes. "Of course it is," she pleaded, cupping his cheeks in slender hands. "Vincent, I don't want to push you away anymore." Tears pooled behind her eyes. "I need you, don't you see? Through this entire ordeal, you've been my strength, my sanity…my salvation…" She tangled her fingers in his night-black hair. "You've given me everything," she whispered, "and now I want to give something back."

"Tifa," Vincent said softly. He adjusted his arms around her, pulling her forward so he could press his face gently into the nape of her neck. "You mean…everything to me. Nothing you could need would I consider too much to ask. I would give you the protomateria if you asked for it, even if it meant Chaos might rip me to shreds from the inside out. If you desired a journey along the untraveled paths of the galaxy, I would use Chaos' power to tear the Lifestream from the planet and send you to the stars. But if I were to accept your love…" His fingers ghosted up her spine until they came to rest on her shoulder; his claw remained snugly around her waist. "I would want you to give me all of you."

Her features flooded with relief. "Vincent, you can have me," she said huskily. She leaned down to capture his lips once more, but she felt only soft leather beneath her kiss; he had brought his hand up to stop her.

"You misunderstand," he said fervently, moving his fingers from her lips to her jawline. "If there is even the slightest trace of love for Cloud in your heart, accepting mine as well would tear you to pieces from the inside out." Irises the color of blood clouded with pain. "You would break, Tifa. He is pulling you one way, and, if I were to take you now, I would be pulling the other – and eventually your heart would shatter. No matter how numb we think we are, Tifa, we are forever human…and we are fragile."

_Which is why my heart is lying in a million pieces at my feet._

The girl was silent for a moment. Vincent let his hand fall to his lap and stared heatedly into its palm, cursing the fates for offering him a chance to be complete…then forcing him to let it pass him by. He closed his eyes and, unbeknownst to him, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"Oh, Vincent…" Tifa threw her arms around his neck. "You're right. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do this to you…I was being so selfish…"

Vincent said nothing. _Of course I'm right,_ he thought bitterly. _I am nothing. But oh, you are so much more…_ But what she said next shook him from his darkening thoughts.

"Will you wait for me?" she asked quietly. Her eyes pleaded with his in the twilight.

Startled, the gunman could utter no more than, "Huh?"

"Will you wait…until I let him go?" she asked softly. Reaching her hand between them, she found his fist and clasped her fingers around it. "…until I can truly love you?"

His features softened into a sad smile. "I will wait forever," he murmured. Placing a chaste kiss upon her forehead, he scooped her off the floor and carried her to the bed Yuffie had graciously surrendered to sick girl. He settled her beneath the blankets and pulled them up around her chin.

"Sleep well," he whispered, letting his touch linger only a moment before moving away from her huddled form. But before he could make his way back to his place on the floor, her slender hand slipped into his and held him back.

"Don't go," came her mumbled plea. "I've slept alone…so long…"

Vincent's eyes fell to the floor. "Tifa…"

"I know you don't like beds, but please…don't leave me…" The tremor in her voice echoed in his heart.

_Vincent, please don't go…_

The gunman turned and slowly climbed onto the bed, crawling hesitantly beneath the blankets for the first time since had first closed his eyes under the lid of the coffin. Since his transformation, the feeling of sleeping on a mattress with his head on a pillow had always seemed an unnatural thing to do. But all these feelings melted away the moment she slipped her arms around his neck and pressed herself into his warmth.

"Thank you," she breathed, warm breath tickling his pearly skin as she laid her head against his shoulder.

Vincent buried his face in her hair, breathing in her sweet scent of lavender and lime. A tender feeling welled up from his stomach, constricting his throat with feelings he did not understand and yet did not dislike. He closed his eyes, wondering how long it would take to count down from forever. Then he was struck by a startling realization.

_I feel._

Looking down at the girl in his arms, it occurred to him that if forever wasn't enough, he would be utterly broken…for another time too many.

_We are fragile._

His eyes stung as the ghost of a smile curled his lips.

_I am human after all._

(A/N: He he. I thought this scene was cute. Hope you did too! R&R)


	6. I Hate You, My Friend

(A/N: Hey guys…sorry it took me so long to update I've been pretty bogged down with school and stuff. Well, here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it.)

Yuffie sat downstairs at the kitchen table, reading a book but not really concentrating on it. It was some boring old magazine of Cid's anyway – something to do with the mechanics of a toy airplane. Not exactly the most delectable of reading material. And so she let her eyes wander aimlessly over the pages, reading from left to right, right to left, and even vertically as her mind raced a million miles a minute.

_I hate not knowing_, she thought irritably, flicking a furtive glance toward the stairs. Tifa had been up there for nearly an hour – she had said she would be back down to grab a bite of dinner within the next fifteen minutes.

"'I'm only going to check up on him'," Yuffie imitated, finally throwing the book down on the table in frustration and putting her chin on her arms. "'I won't be long'. My ass." She wasn't quite sure why this bothered her to such an extent. After all, it wasn't like Tifa would leave Cloud for Vincent…

_Or would she?_

"That's it," she declared, jumping to her feet and knocking her chair over in the process. "I can't take this anymore. I have to go see what's going on."

_Vincent…._

She shook her head and made for the steps, cutting her thought process short before she could finally admit to herself what she had been denying all along. The gunman's crimson eyes flashed through her mind, framed by the ashen face she had come to appreciate for the cold, crystalline beauty that was all it's own.

Before she could put her foot on the first step, the front door swung open a short distance down the hall, scaring her half to death as it slammed into the wall. Yuffie whirled around.

"Cid!" she yelled. "You have to stop doing that! You almost made me crap my – what?"

Framed by the darkened doorframe was Cloud Strife.

"Tifa…" he mumbled, reaching toward her with a shaky hand. He tried to take a step forward, but his weakened legs sent him sprawling to the floor in a flurry of thumps and limbs.

"Oh my God," Yuffie cried, clapping her hand over her mouth. She rushed to the fallen man, and, falling to her knees beside him, pulled him into a sitting position. "Cloud! Cloud, can you hear me? Cloud?"

The swordsman's eyes fluttered hazily open. "Sephiroth…" he whispered. A blue sheen of mako infused light emanated from his cerulean irises, then was concealed by his short eyelashes as his eyelids flickered closed.

"Crap crap crap crap crap crap crap…" Yuffie laid the man back on the floor and bounded up the stairs. "Vincent! Cid! Tifa! Come down here quick!" she yelled. By the time she reached the top step, her three friends, followed by a sleepy Shera, had already reached the end of the hall.

"What the hell're ya raisin' such a ruckus for, gal?" Cid demanded. "I was sleepin,' dammit all!"

"C…Cloud…Cloud is…" She couldn't force the words past her lips – the gravity of the situation had tightened her throat like a vice. She made feeble gestures toward the door.

Tifa took the girl firmly by the shoulders. "What is it Yuffie? What about Cloud?"

Vincent's eyes flew wide. He shoved past the other three and leaped down the stairs, his scarlet cape flowing out like magma behind him as he sprinted for the front door. The gunman knelt by Cloud, automatically checking his neck for a heartbeat.

Tifa went white. "Oh…" she breathed. She bounded down the stairs after Vincent, rushing to where the gunner was propping the swordsman against the wall and putting her hands on his shoulders. "Is he okay?" she asked fervently.

"Well, he's breathing, if that's what you mean," Vincent replied, studying Cloud's inert form with furrowed brows. "Here, you take a look."

He watched in silence as she knelt before the father of her would-be child, taking his face gently between her hands and tugging open one of his eyes. Cid, who had sauntered up behind them with Yuffie close on his heels, raised an eyebrow. "You checkin' t'see if he's drunk, girl?" he asked incredulously.

Tifa shot him an irritated look. "No. I'm seeing if his eyes are glowing. That was always what happened when Sephiroth entered his mind."

Cid cleaned out his ear. "Sephiroth is dead, girl," he muttered. But he didn't sound so sure.

Yuffie took the opportunity to hook her arm through Vincent's. "Vincent, what could this mean?" she asked, fear staining her cheerful voice. "We've been looking for him for going on two months now…and he just randomly decides to show up again? Why?"

_Perhaps because Sephiroth was destroyed before he could cause any trouble._ Vincent flicked his eyes over Tifa's back. That had to be the reason.

"I'm going to call the doctor," Vincent told them, gently removing Yuffie from his arm and rising gracefully to his feet. "Cid, where's your phone b--"

"T…Tifa…?" Cloud's muddled voice floated to him from behind his back. The gunman stopped short, whirling around in a cyclone of scarlet to see that his friend had opened his eyes.

Sinking against the wall, Tifa cradled the blond swordsman against her, stroking his hair and looking as if he hadn't been gone a day. "Cloud," she murmured. "Oh Cloud…"

Vincent's heart burned.

"Tifa," the swordsman said again, grasping the word as if it were the only thing saving him from an eternity in darkness. "I'm…sorry…" He reached up a shaky hand and brushed her cheek.

She shook her head, cupping his had against her face and sending tiny rivulets of silver flowing down her cheeks. "Welcome home," she whispered.

Cloud's stoic features relaxed into a smile. "Home…" he repeated softly. Tifa watched his mouth move around the unfamiliar term and was instantly drawn to it, unable to fight the urge to seal her lips over his as she tangled her fingers in his golden hair. The two kissed shamelessly, easing their fears and sorrows into a haze as they drowned themselves in each other.

Yuffie's eyes welled up with tears. "Aw, move over, Tifa!" she exclaimed, pushing the girl none-too-gently to the side so she could throw herself upon the swordsman. "Other people want a shot at him too!" She gave the slender man a good natured hug.

"Seriously!" Cid laughed, squatting down beside them and thumbing his nose. "Where the hell've you been, boy? We've been worried sick 'bout yer bitchy little ass!"

"I…honestly don't remember." A shadow fell over Cloud's face as he furrowed his brow. "The last thing I can recall was watching the sun set over the crater as I was about to start Fenrir." Yuffie backed off a little as he let his head fall into his hands. "After that, it's just…blank."

"That's really strange," Tifa mused, settling back on her haunches. "Nothing at all?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Well…there is one thing…" Tifa trailed off, gaze darting quickly across the companions closest to her as she pondered how to get away from them

"What is it?" Cloud asked, her dark tone making him glance up from the leather of his gloves with a hint of smothered fear rising in his eyes.

She bit her lip. "Cloud, we need to talk," she said at last. "But not here."

Cid snorted. "And why not, girlie?" he demanded. "We're in on this just as much as you are; and if you even _think_ that you can get aroun' this one with jist yer pretty li'l face, I'll have ya know that I--"

Yuffie laid a calming hand on the furious pilot's arm. "Cid, think about it," she said soothingly. "They haven't seen each other in over two months. There are things that we really shouldn't…butt in on."

"They're jist talkin'!"

"For now," Yuffie said meaningfully, holding his eyes with a commanding stare. "Come on, let's go." Hooking the protesting Cid by the arm, she steered him up the stairs and down the hall toward his room.

Tifa grimaced slightly. "Well, I didn't mean _that_," she muttered. _Oh well._ Turning her eyes toward the doorway, she was about to ask Vincent to help her explain when she realized he was gone. _I didn't want _him _to leave,_ she thought, somewhat put out. _Why would he…_

Then the realization hit her like a Meteor.

"Vincent…" she breathed, her heart in her eyes as she stared at the place where he had stood just moments before, cursing – and loving – her with every beat of his heart as he watched her act exactly as he had predicted not two hours before.

Oblivious to her current predicament, Cloud followed her gaze as he slipped his arm around her waist. "What is it?" he asked softly.

Tifa shook herself from her thoughts and forced a smile, suddenly wishing with all her being that he would keep his hands to himself. "Nothing," she said in a strained voice. "Just…nerves." Turning from the empty space before her, she launched into the tale of her ventures, starting from that tearful evening in the bar when she had first fallen into Vincent's arms.

Vincent wandered aimlessly through the quiet night air, letting the wind throw his cape in spirals of blood around his shoulders as shameless tears stung the backs of his eyes. The image of the two of them together just wouldn't leave him alone, even as he tried to drown it in the freezing February frost.

_Why must I always be the one to suffer?_

He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and stared at the ground passing beneath his heavy footsteps. Buildings passed him by on either side, but he paid them no heed – he simply continued to place one foot in front of the other as his path carried him toward another night…

…alone.

_I am alone…after all._

The burning sensation behind his scarlet irises grew stronger as he began to wonder if what he had thought he perceived had ever really been there at all.

_I've been lying to myself. No… he cast his gaze upon the stars. I've been telling the truth all along…warning myself against futility…but in the end…I refused to hear it. _Reaching the outskirts of the tiny town, the gunman settled himself on ground against the wooden fence and crossed his arms against the cold. Pitch colored hair tumbled about his shoulders as he leaned his head back against the fencepost and closed his eyes.

_I don't know why I thought anything would change. She was simply trying to quell the pain of his absence with another's embrace. It would not have mattered whose._ The chill winter wind caressed his pale face with slender tendrils of frost, trailing her frozen fingers along his chest and leaving a trail of ice behind.

_So why did I think that smile was meant only for me?_

He did not know how long he sat in the cold February twilight, letting these morose musings wander through his mind, but he was only snapped from his melancholy lapse when he heard a soft voice behind him.

"…I thought I'd find you out here."

Vincent didn't turn around. "Leave me, Tifa," he murmured. "I wish to be alone."

He heard her shuffle her feet in the thin blanket of newfallen snow. Snow? He blinked, realizing that a mantle of fluffy white powder had, at some point, accumulated on his body. _When did _that _happen? _Partly amused and wholly annoyed, he brushed it from his lap. When he didn't hear her retreat, he cast an irate glance over his shoulder. "I asked you to leave," he said icily.

"No." There was a tremor in her voice, but she refused to back down. "I'm not going anywhere until you hear me out."

He said nothing. _What's to hear?_ he wondered gloomily. _It's always the same damn thing._ He could feel Tifa's pleading gaze upon his back; he wondered idly if he would ever understand why – in a world where any action led inevitably to pain – anyone ever did anything at all.

Tifa moved closer. "So will you listen?" she asked quietly.

_You give me no choice. My heart burns for yours, just as it did for hers all those many years ago. _He clenched his claw. _Yes, I will listen, but I will never understand._

When she hesitated, he flicked his eyes once more across her motionless frame. "Well?"

"What happened back there…"

He could not suppress a small snort. He had known she would start with that.

"You promised me nothing," he murmured, "and I expected nothing."

A small hand alighted on his shoulder; the gunman tensed beneath its touch. Tifa felt his muscles stiffen through the stiff cloth of his cloak. She chewed her lip as she pondered what to say, then, coming up short, simply sighed and plopped her bundled form into the snow beside him. Vincent tossed her a sideways glance and was surprised to find tears glimmering in her eyes. He was suddenly ashamed. Tifa had every right to be happy right now; her prayers had been answered. Cloud was home. And yet here she sat, sorrow clouding her beautiful face…

…_all because of me._

"Tifa," he said at last, twisting onto his knees and taking her gently by the chin, "don't worry about me. As I said before – I expected nothing. You owe me nothing…except to be happy with the blessing you have received." Unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead, savoring the way her silky locks brushed against his icy skin. Leaning back, he let his fingers trail across her cheek as he returned them to his knees. "He is waiting for you," he murmured. "Go to him. He loves you still."

"He can wait." Tifa's slender fingers tangled themselves in his as she pulled herself close. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Tifa!" A voice echoed by muffled footsteps floated through the winter wind and pulled her gaze from the gunman's pale face. "Tifa, where are you?"

"Cloud," Tifa sighed. Letting go of Vincent's gloved hand, she pushed herself to her feet and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "I guess I'll have to tell you later. Will you come to my room tonight around midnight?"

A small, sad smile quirked his lip. "We'll see."

She clasped her hands. "Please, Vincent – it's important."

Seeing the pleading look on her face, the gunman closed his eyes and finally nodded his agreement. "I'll be in around midnight."

She grinned, tears fading into the depths of her chocolate irises. "Thanks, Vincent. This means a lot to me. See ya later." Lacing her fingers behind her back, she turned and started in the direction of Cloud's voice, leaving Vincent with an hour and a half to sit in silence with a question in his mind and a grimace on his lips.

(R&R plz)


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